


Ballgame

by Futsin



Category: Laverne & Shirley (TV)
Genre: Baseball, Car Sex, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, F/M, Impregnation, Married Couple, Married Sex, Public Sex, Really Needed That, Teasing, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:48:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23526394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Futsin/pseuds/Futsin
Summary: Follows "Every Chance They Can Get"Another fantasy fulfilled, this time with a little more risk involved for Laverne and Lenny. But sometimes, you just need to let off some steam. In public. Where people may see you.
Relationships: Laverne DeFazio/Lenny Kosnowski
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3
Collections: L&S Marriageverse





	Ballgame

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Missy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/gifts).



Barb grinned at her brother and pointed into their mother’s lap. Andy ignored her until she bopped him on the arm. He had stopped yelling “hey!” when she did that, as it had become clear from his parents and from Barb herself, that his two year old sister was just like that. So, he took his time watching the ballgame, as the pitcher was arguing with the ref about something, then turned on the second (okay, fourth time) his sister kiddie slapped him on the arm. She was pointing into their mother’s legs, because their parents had their fingers entwined; Laverne had pulled Lenny’s hand to her, their finger-embrace on her knees, and was smiling all the live long day about it. From her spot in Shirley’s lap, Barb grinned at her older brother. “Holdin’ hanz!” She imitated it with Andy and despite himself, he relented. It would keep her quiet. Shirley, the auntie/babysitter/vicarious-mother-figure-who-still-was-waiting-to-get-married-because-that’s-just-how-she-is, smiled at the little De Fazio/Kosnowski kids. “Oh, isn’t that sweet? You’re one big happy family today!” It helped keep her mind off the fact she was clearly a buffer for _something_. She didn’t know what yet, but Laverne’s knowing grins, as if they were still living in that bottom-level sub-basement apartment again, let Shirley know it was _probably_ smutty.

Shirley hadn’t seen the two of them like this in a while; it stood to reason that the re-charge of their retreat out of town, a little vacation for the two lovebirds to rekindle the fire, had set something new ablaze. It was a nuisance, one more thing for her to complain about and for Carmine, Frank, Hilde, Eric, and everyone else in their friend circle to roll their eyes about every time Shirley brought up that Laverne and Lenny were vodeo-do-doing. (not that Hildie or Carmine ever let her finish saying that _‘childish euphemism’_ ) Well, she said that among their closest friends. _Marital relations_ to anyone that knew them well enough she could trust they wouldn’t tattle on her about feeling scandalized by her best friend/almost-sister and almost-brother-in-law’s behavior. And it was also Shirley’s own feelings of whether it was trying to patch up something that maybe was or maybe wasn’t there. Her own worries for the worst had a way of doing that.

It was why when Laverne made a fuss about leaving her purse in the car and Lenny insisting he go with her to watch after her, that Shirley sighed. She loved Andy and Barb, the latter _clearly_ named after Shirley’s mother (or at least, she liked to think that despite Laverne’s insistence to the contrary), and the ballgame was an eventful one with a lot of people very angry and a lot of balls being thrown around. She even caught herself daydreaming about the outfielder maybe asking her out for drinks later, while Andy was trying to tell his little sister all about how the game worked. Well, how it worked in his own five-year-old imagination. Shirley thought it was more exciting anyway. The date that Laverne and Lenny had bribed her with had turned out to be handsome, playful, but a bit boring. He couldn’t stop talking about plastics, the poor dope. So, she let him sit next to her, buy her popcorn, talk about new chemical compounds, while she enjoyed the kids being near and Mr. Outfielder. There’d be a chewing out for Laverne later and a few scowling glares at Lenny.

Meanwhile, the excited couple were finally out in the parking lot, looking for the hard-top Pontiac that was the Kosnowski-mobile. (Carmine had claimed Fonzie once referred to it as such and nobody ever believed him) Laverne grinned, looking this way and that, flapping her blouse to relieve the layer of sweat doing all the work cooling her down. There wasn’t anybody visibly nearby, only more sun-baked cars in the lot, but not knowing just made it that much better. Lenny was clearly tenting in his jeans, rubbing his hands to warm them up before the foreplay, but shooting his own furtive glances around the other vehicles. His own insecurities ensured this was not frequently his thing, but his wife had unlocked a vice inside him when she had moaned it out in a hysteria of dirty talk some months ago. He had his reservations, but every hint that he was going to make it happen made her so happy (and a lot more enthusiastic in bed), that he couldn’t deny it was growing on him. The thrill and risk were intensifying with each step to the car, as she wrapped an arm around him to press her breasts into his side. She kissed him, chastely, like she was with her first boyfriend and he was the high school big shot. A part of the old Lenny, the wild Lenny, came out and he had to chuckle the way Squig had taught him. She walked her fingers up his shirt to tap his lips, making him wonder if it was possible for a man to swoon into a woman’s arms.

Soon, they reached the car and he was fumbling with his keys. Laverne stood just behind him and wrapped her arm around his body, rubbing his crotch with her forearm while her fingers curled on his hand to steady his grip to unlock the door. “Easy, Len. Don’t wanna shoot off too soon.” She licked the lobe of his ear and he bit his free hand clenched in a fist. They felt like naughty teenagers again, and after how busy life had been that year, the husband and wife had earned the right to a taste of frisky afternoon delight.

Inside the car, it was a bit of a toss-up and a rumble of their bodies mashing together that a passerby would have thought at first that it was a wrestling match. First they tried the backseat, like back in the old days, but Laverne realized she wanted Lenny up front, so she could sit in his lap. It was another fumble then, a door opening and closing, making them both alert as they looked to see if anyone noticed how he’d already unbuckled his belt or how she’d unbuttoned her purple blouse. Finally he was in the front and she saddled in on top of him. When she landed there, he groaned long into her neck, putting his warm hands tenderly under her blouse to feel up her breasts through her bra. She pursed her lip, muffling her gasp, which spurred him into kissing her neck and humping up into her bundled skirt. She felt the bulge and had to start unzipping him, tugging as he humped, getting them down to his knees so they would make less mess. He swung up against her thighs under her skirt, bopping around in between, and she sighed at how hard he was. For her. Always for her. Being out there, gaining his desire and controlling it with her own, was a powerful aphrodisiac Laverne realized she’d underutilized as a wife to an adoring husband. She pulled the skirt around that it covered their nearly-joined parts. She teased him a little more by rubbing her panty-clad groin on his thigh, letting him feel how wet she was, how wet this situation made her, and entice him into giving her _everything_. Lenny reached under to put his throbbing member against one straddling leg. “You got my motor runnin’ so fast, baby.” She laughed into his cheek, rested closed eyes on his forehead, and followed it with a deep kiss, resting her face on his, while she reached under her skirt. Her legs adjusted again, pushing his thighs together and hers over them. Her panties shifted, which she corrected to pull the crotch of them aside. He, in turn, slipped the head of his cock along her curls, just grazing her slit. More moans, more gasps. He was teasing her. Well, she thought, two can play at that game.

“How long ya gonna last?” She was rising fast herself, but hearing him say how much he wanted to come inside her, either in his words or the tone of them, would put her back in control. Back on top, at least that little bit more than she already was. He groaned into her shoulder as she was leaning over him now. “I don’t know, baby.” She pressed on him. “Do you want to come inside your wife?” Moans that were beautifully pitiful rose form his throat in a croak, making Laverne nuzzle him. “Hold out for me.” He nodded into her hair, sighed on her shoulders. Then as she was grinding on him, he took an opening and slipped in. She could feel it, almost hear it beyond the breath, the distant crowd shouting, the terribly tinny p.a. system. And she sank all the way down, until her fuzz met his, and they both hissed with almost-pain pleasure. He grit his teeth and grabbed her ass while she leaned in, hands back on his shoulders, and started her rise, then her fall, then her rise again. His pulse was so quick she was almost worried, until she opened her eyes and saw what looked like movement a few cars back. Late comers? Early leavers? Would they see? It was a man and woman, a couple. She grinned lavishly and whispered into her husband’s ear, husky as she could. “Someone’s close.” His brilliant blue eyes popped open and she pulled back to look into them, listen to his soft gasps as she rode him. “They’re almost walking by.” He gasped and humped up into her. “Go faster,” he said. It made her gasp and a moan escaped. She did go faster, up and down, clenching herself on him as she rose and releasing as she fell. He reached under the skirt to fondle her clitoris, but she was moving too fast for him to follow, as his arm bunched up in the skirt. So he held her waist with one hand and put the other arm around her shoulders. She leaned her chin on the back of the seat, watching the world outside while she thrust herself on her husband, arched her body over him, and gave into her passion. He looked over her own shoulder, seeing a young woman twenty feet away gasp at realizing what they were up to. “A girl sees us,” he whispered in her ear and she grunted. “Does she like it?” she gasped, hissed. It made him thrust up into her. He grinned, big enough she felt it against her as they pulled themselves together. “She’s scandalized.” Laverne giggle-moaned, a thing that Lenny hadn’t heard her do in ages, but loved how it felt when he was inside her.

She was wetter than she thought she’d be from this, even when she teased him with it in the hotel room and they’d talked about it a few weeks later, and all the times after that. There were so many eyes, she felt, even if she couldn’t see them. And they knew Lenny Kosnowski loved his wife so much he had to have her, here, in view of anyone close enough. Not caring was an act, because of course Laverne cared, she wanted it to be known theirs was a passion that could not contained by social mores. It was beautiful and powerful, to be celebrated by them as they saw fit. 

She kissed him again and when she heard more voices, on the other side of where the couple had been, that was when she came. Beneath her, Lenny couldn’t last any longer either. They’d dragged it out as far as they could, longer than either thought they would, and at last he pulled her down to his legs. She felt the swelling heat inside her and held on tight, both inside and onto Lenny himself with her arms. A soft sob came from her lips at the release. He groaned in a shudder, vibrating against her, pulsing within, and at last he whispered on the tip of the peak, “I’m coming inside you.” As she caught her breath, she ran her fingers, hands, arms in and around his hair, mussing it up in the sweaty car. “I know. I can feel it.” She kissed the sweat off his brow and he tasted the glistening on her neck. After a long breath of relief, shared, she leaned back on his lap and grinned in his face. “Well. That was fun.” He grinned back.

Clean-up was another quick and intense (but difficult, not as fun, and kinda smelly) process. Lenny had stashed some cloths in his pocket and the glovebox, while Laverne used a tampon to neaten things. After airing out the car for a decent ten minutes (and sheepishly smiling at a couple of greasers that definitely knew what they’d gotten up to), washing things down with water from a thermos in the backseat, and realizing that for all their spontaneity they were still Responsible Adults (patent pending), the couple held hands and walked back to the baseball stadium. They stopped off in the respective bathrooms to finish cleaning up, rejoined, and returned to their seats to find Shirley glaring at them _very_ sternly, while Andy and Barb were animatedly coming up with better ways that baseball could be played. Shirley’s date, whose name Lenny had already forgotten and Laverne would forget within a month, was still talking about plastics.

Hours passed, the family got ice cream on the way home, and just after dark they settled little Barb to bed, with all her pluck and forceful energy drained by the heat and a full tummy. She was the easy one to get to sleep, for she wanted to dream. Andy was a little more stern, a little pickier, and it took him more convincing. But the kids were asleep by around ten o’clock, allowing husband and wife in their domestic bliss again to get changed for bed themselves. They talked about their day and the one to come, made some plans, but then spent the rest of the night snuggled together reminiscing on their tryst. 

Meanwhile, on the opposite side of town, Shirley Feeney couldn’t get her own voice saying “vodeo-do-do” out of her head, as trying to relax led to thinking about the Outfielder daydreams, which led to trying to think about the Plastics Guy, which led to thinking about Laverne and Lenny getting frisky somewhere, and the magical glow in their eyes when they got back. She was frustrated in her pajamas, laying in the dark kicking the sheets around, alternating between hitting a pillow and squeezing it over her ears to try blocking the mental noise. But, she sighed at the end of her angering-self-to-sleep internal tirade, allowing a reminder that she loved them both. It was different from how they loved each other, yet it was always love. She drifted off thinking, _“I need to get some of that myself.”_


End file.
